Crowbar: A Jason Todd Story
by MTGMA
Summary: Jason Todd decides to gather Batman's rogues' gallery, with one thing in mind. But, as he comes closer and closer to fulfilling his goal, he begins to feel regrets.  Rated M for explicit language .


Dick Grayson. I hate him. I hate his guts. To see him wear the Batman Cowl… it disgusts me. He's dishonoring the legacy of Batman. Hell, Damian would make a better Batman than that asshole. He can't even do the goddamn voice right… he's like some kid pretending to be the Dark Knight…

When everyone knows I'm a better one.

Sunday night. A cold, dark, scary night. I'm thinking it's a perfect time to thwart the so-called "crusade against crime" of Batman. The lameass stupid Batman…

But first, I'll visit an old "friend"…

Arkham Asylum. This place is Hell. For anyone else. But for me, it's my recruitment venue. All of the people here have one thing in common: They want to kill Batman. They hate the Batman's guts. And so do I. That makes it easy for me to strike up a conversation with them.

Cell #0312152314. The Joker. The maniac who fucking bludgeoned me to holy Hell with a goddamn crowbar. But thanks to something called a Crisis, I'm back, older, wiser and more badass than ever before. Little does this clown know I'll have the last laugh…

"Well, if it isn't little Jason Todd. My my, have you grown!" Joker says, inside his cell. You're lucky you're inside it, you maniac. If it weren't for that cell, you would have been dead by now.

"Jason, my dear, no hard feelings?" The sick clown smiles. God, I hate him.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." I smile at him. Of course I lied.

"Joker, I've come to talk to you about something…" I start off.

"Mmm-hmmm?"

"I want you to help me… kill Batman."

"Of course, Boy Wonder! No problem! Attempting to kill Batman is my favorite pastimes!" Just the words that I wanted to hear.

I grab the key from the pocket. Thanks to Lock-Up I got Joker's duplicate key.

I was about to unlock him when I heard a voice coming from another cell.

"How about us, Todd?" It was Two-Face.

"Don't worry, Harvey." I grin. "I've got all the keys right here…"

Tonight, we kill Batman. All of us.

Joker. Bane. Two-Face. And more. Badass villains. With an even more badass leader. Me. Take that, Luthor!

"Tonight, we'll wreak havoc on Gotham. We'll cripple her and make her helpless. We'll make all the citizens of this sad, sad piece of crap they call a goddamn city bleed. We'll make them all bleed, and cry, and look up to the heavens in search for hope, but there won't be any hope. There's no hope for any fucking one of them, when you've got the baddest asses on the planet side by side. The disfigured District Attorney. The Venom-addicted man who broke the Bat, and the Bat's arch-enemy, the sick, smiling freak, among others. Let's put our differences aside for just one night. Tonight, we shall be come an unstoppable force. Tonight, we kill the source of our hate: the goddamn Batman!"

They all cheer. That must been one hell of a speech I just gave. After this, I'll kill them all. But I'll have more pleasure in killing Joker, that goddamn sadistic clown!

Here we are. All of us. Allies one and all. We're gathered at some abandoned warehouse.

"Excuse me!" I shout. Everybody stopped doing what they were doing. Cool.

"I propose a name for this group… THE DARK KNIGHT DESTROYERS!"

God, that sounded awful. If we were to have that name, we'd sound like a football team. Unless if any of these assclowns can provide with a better name.

"Screw names! Why do we need 'em? After all, this is just a one-time thing, right?' Killer Croc says, putting his hand on my shoulder. You better get it off or I'll break your scaly-ass arm.

He takes it off. He might have read my eyes. "Fine! Screw names! Destroy the goddamn Batman! That's the reason why we're here! And he better pray to God up above he'll survive. And even if he does,.. …He'll regret it!"

My helmet must be on too tight. But I didn't give a crap. I only loaded one bullet in my gun. The other one has none. But I didn't give a crap about that, either. All it takes is one bullet, to take the Batman down. I stand by that.

We're like some badass posse, the way we walk down the street. We're like school bullies when they walk down the hallway. Gotham City is our playground now. Tonight. And we'll kill its most beloved hero. We'll watch as witnesses enter a state of deep shock. Shock that they can never erase. Batman dies tonight. And soon, he'll be reborn. But this time, I'll be under the cowl. Not that punk ass Dick Grayson. He's a dick. Glad his parents knew that by calling him Dick when he was a kid. Damian? He's fine by me. The kid wants to kill, he was born to kill. His job is still secure as long as I'm concerned. Dick, however, has to go. Whether he likes it… or not.

The people run for their lives. Screaming like little babies. God, it hurts my ears. If I had more than one bullet in my gun, I would have shot them. Thank Harvey his gun was loaded. He shot them. All of them. Of course, when I meant all of them, I meant those that were "destined to die". Destined to die? Honestly, why carry a freaking coin around with you all the time to make your decisions when you can make them yourself? Pretty fucked up, if you ask me.

There it is. The Batmobile , right in front of us. I'll give you a war, Grayson. Whether you'll like it or not, I'll give you a hell of a fight.

And there he is. The self-proclaimed "heir to the throne": from Robin, to Nightwing, to Batman. He doesn't deserve to wear the cowl. I died, for Christ's sake. I DIED! And him? What the hell did he ever do to deserve to be Batman?

I think I should rethink this. What did **I** do to make myself think I should be Batman? I was never as good as Dick. Let's face it, he was the better Robin.

I was jealous. Jealous of him. He beat me in a battle for the cowl, and, I hate to admit it, but he deserves where he is today.

I knew it since the very beginning. Bruce despised me. When I was Robin, he'd treat me like a pile of garbage. He never seemed to show any love. Ironically, he was like a father to Dick. Was he discriminating me? Just because I wasn't a Flying fucking Grayson?

When I died, he failed to save me. Worse, he never avenged me! He didn't decide to kill Joker, not just for my death, but for also thousands of others he's killed over the years. Just because of some "moral code"? Bruce, why, Bruce? Didn't you ever love me?

He never loved me. If Bruce were alive today and were to choose his successor, he'd still choose Dick. Let's face it, he never loved me like a son, he never loved me like anything. No one ever loved me. No one ever loved Jason fucking Todd.

"I AM BATMAN!" That used to be my motto… I'm no Batman. I never will be.

"Time for business, Jason!" Joker shouts. They all approach Dick. I, however, don't. "What's the problem, Todd?" Harvey asks me. I bring out the gun from my pocket. I point it to Joker, who had his back turned, talking to Batman. The Batman who deserves to be what he is.

I throw the gun to the ground, and I pull out a crowbar. Not just any crowbar, but the same crowbar Joker killed me with. Avenging my death never even crossed Bruce's mind, so I'll just do it myself.

I hit the Joker on the back of the head. He falls, and I hit him again and again, his body sprawled across the floor. Dick tries to push me away, but fails. He grabs the crowbar away from me.

"Jason, don't do this!" he said as he struggled to get the crowbar away from me.

"Don't do what, Dick? I know exactly what I'm doing! Give it!" I kick him in the stomach and manage to wrestle the crowbar out of his hands.

I keep on beating Joker with the crowbar, his chalk-colored face now full of blood, with streaks of red all over his green hair.

All of them, Harvey, Ivy, Bane. All in shock. Their jaws wide open. No one's stopping me.

"I've turned into a monster, haven't I?…"

They all nod.

"Jason, please. You don't want to do this."

"I know, Batman. I know."

I stop.

I look.

I listen.

I listen to the silence.

Then, I talk.

"Dick, you'll always be the better Robin."

I take off my helmet.

I accept being flawed.

I accept being imperfect.

I stick the curved end of the crowbar on my forehead.

I increase pressure.

I scream.

I feel release.

Goodbye, Gotham City. Goodbye, world. I'll miss you. But I miss the afterlife a hell of a lot more.


End file.
